


Needs Must

by ladyjax



Category: Andromeda
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Canon Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/pseuds/ladyjax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan has needs.  Tyr makes an offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Must

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written sometime in 2005 as a series of snippets after an episode I don't remember the name of.

Dylan stalked through some of Andromeda's most remote corridors, heart beating loudly in his ears.

Tigris Drift had been the stuff of nightmares for Andromeda's crew. A small backwater drift, it was directly in the path of the the advancing Magog world ship. Regular raiding parties had finally stretched the drift's resources to the point of no return so the call went out to the Andromeda to evacuate the drift's population.

What should have been an orderly withdrawal turned into a major skirmish with the Drago-Katzov. The Nietzchean pride apparently decided to attack with an eye towards stripping the drift of the last of its resources. Only the timely intervention of the Wrath of Achilles kept the casualty list down to a minimum.

The others had staggered back to their quarters with vague promises to Trance to eventually have their injuries check in the medical bay. Rommie opted to power down and pull her consciousness out of her avatar for a well deserved rest.

Sooner or later he had to stop walking. Dylan stopped at the juncture of four corridors. It had been so long since he had been this deep within Andromeda. Sometime he forgot just how big the ship was. But then it had seemed a lot smaller when she had a full crew.

Dylan walked over to a near by bulkhead and rested against it. He was dog tired but too keyed up to sleep. His stomach, his blood, his body burned with the stored energy left over from the fighting. And he had to get rid of it.

Slowly he reached up and flipped the catches on his jacket. Dylan shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor at his feet. He rubbed one hand across his chest, felt his nipples come to life beneath his touch. Tipping his head back, Dylan closed his eyes, enjoying the electric jolts that assaulted him every time he touched his nipples.

His free hand drifted down to flick open the catch of his trousers when he heard the sound of boots on metal grating. His hand stilled but Dylan didn't even bother to look at the person who happened upon him.

"Tyr.'

"Captain Hunt."

Tyr's voice was the usual mixture of deference and insolence with an edge of mockery.

Dylan knew he couldn't avoid it so he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his weapons officer. The Nietzchean was leaning against a bulkhead, arms crossed over his chain mailed chest. He was still grimy from the fighting, and Dylan saw the various bruises that Tyr had sustained during the final battle. "Tyr," he said again.

  
"I thought you'd gone back to your quarters."

Tyr flicked a few stray locks away from his face and his lips quirked in a slight smile. "I thought the same of you. But then, the more I know of you, the more you surprise me."

"So what were you doing down here?"

The other man shrugged. "Walking. Thinking. " Tyr looked around the empty corridor. "I often come down here when I want some privacy. And may I ask the same of you? He let his eyes wander up and down Dylan's form. "Or shall I make an educated guess about exactly what you were doing?"

Dylan turned so that his posture mirrored Tyr's. His slate blue eyes raked over the other man. "Why don't you tell me Tyr since you seem to know so much."

"You were about to provide yourself with some relief, if I'm not mistaken."

"Well, no one could ever say that you weren't astute," Dylan quipped. "Anything else?"

Tyr moved forward until he was very close to Dylan. "I would hazard a guess that tonight the touch of your own hand will not be enough to extinguish what burns inside you."

Dylan eyed the Kodiak closely. Beneath the light mockery of Tyr's words, he heard something else. An offer perhaps?

"When this ship had a full crew, how did you slake your thirst, captain?" Tyr's eyes slid up and down Dylan's body insolently. "After battle, after a particularly hard mission, with the fire burning in your blood, did you crave release?"

Dylan kept his eyes on Tyr. His fingers toyed with the catch of his trousers and his lips twitched as he tried not to smile. "Wouldn't you?" he asked.

Tyr reached out until he was able to run the back of his fingers down Dylan's cheek. The human's skin was curiously soft and warm. Fascinating.

Dylan closed his eyes at the touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. He gave himself over to the surging feelings in his gut, felt the tingle that went straight to his cock.

"Who cares for the captain when he has needs?" Tyr whispered. His hand moved from Dylan's cheek to curve around the back of the other man's head. "Who provides solace?"

His eyes slid open slowly. "In the past, there were...some among the crew that I could turn to," Dylan replied. His fingers finally flicked open his trousers, relieving some of the pressure. "Nothing permanent."

"You had Sara at home," Tyr began as he stroked the fine hairs at the back of Dylan's neck.

"No, that wasn't the reason. She understood that there were things that happened while I was on post. Needs that she could not fulfill."

Tyr licked his bottom lip as though tasting Dylan's desire. "I see," he said simply. "So, you would take care of things here with warriors like yourself."

"Yes," Dylan hissed as Tyr's fingernails scratched the back of his neck. His own hands finally came up to rest on the other man's shoulders, clutching at the chain mail.

The Nietzchean stepped closer, sliding his fingers into Dylan's hair. "Then it would seem that you have something of a problem, dear Captain. There are no other warriors here."

"Except for you."

"Yes."

Dylan's hands moved from Tyr's shoulders down his arms, stopping at the bone blades.  
"You'd stoop to offer aid offer to a kludge? What's in it for you?"

An enigmatic shrug was Tyr's only answer. He leaned in to brush his lips against Dylan's, his hands coming down to rest lightly on the captain's hips.

The kiss was brief, a flirtation at best.

"Well, Captain?"

Dylan kissed like he did everything else: equal parts desire and desperation. Tyr felt as though he was being devoured and for a moment he hesitated.

"Strength for strength," Dylan panted, leaning in to nip at the full lips before him. "You want this then you meet me half way."

Tyr's hands left Dylan's hips to fumble with the other man's fly, peeling open the tight High Guard pants. He felt around the top of Dylan's briefs for moment, lightly stroking the soft skin before plunging both hands in to cup Dylan's ass.

He received a hiss of pleasure for his efforts.

Dylan felt Tyr's hands clamp down on his cheeks like talons holding him in place. It had been so long since he had met anyone whose strength would match his own. Growing up on Tarn Vedra, amongst other heavy worlders he didn't have to think too much about going full out with his passions.

When he met Sarah, however, Dylan learned the hard way not to let himself get too far gone. Even though she wanted him too, begged him to unleash all his strength on her, he was reluctant to even try. Only on the ship, on Andromeda, amongst others who could and would provide him with that release did Dylan indulge.

Now, with Tyr in front of him, touching him, stroking him, Dylan opened himself to the sensations that his body now remembered that it craved.

Tyr's hand had closed around Dylan's cock, providing the most delicious friction. What could the High Guard captain do then but return the favor?

Dylan released Tyr's locks even as he dove back in to forcefully kiss the other man. His hands found the catches to Tyr's trousers and flicked them open. Sliding his hands in, he broke off the kiss for a moment.

"So tight," Dylan said huskily. "I don't know how you stand being practically naked in these pants."  
Tyr's answering smirk did little to mar the glimmer in his deep brown eyes. "They serve a purpose," he replied. "Females like to know what kind of package they're getting."

"Uh huh. Right. And the reason why you wear them on the bridge?"

Tyr grunted as Dylan's hand found him. "To tease," he said through gritted teeth. His hips thrust forward when Dylan gave his cock a particularly sadistic twist, sending a bolt of heat through his body.

Dylan kissed him again before resting his forehead against Tyr's. "To tease me?"

"Perhaps."

They fell into a rhythm. Mouths plundered as hands stroked cocks into a heaving frenzy. All around them, the hallways echoed with the sound of their labored breathing, deep whispers and hoarse cries of passion until finally Dylan's hips rocked forward hard, trapping their hands between them.

Dylan shuddered as Tyr's hand left him, the aftereffects of his orgasm coursing through his veins, calming him.

"I..."

"Needed that?" Tyr replied somewhat breathlessly. "I'm sure you did. I enjoyed giving it to you."

"Really?" One eyebrow crooked upward speculatively. "You didn't come."

"No need."

Tyr started to move away from the bulkhead only to be pushed back against it by Dylan's forearm across his chest. His protest was stopped by the look of utter determination on Dylan's face and the tightening of Dylan's hand on his cock.

That hand started up a much more punishing rhythm, one that demanded a reaction rather than soothed the Nietzchean.

"I'd be remiss in my duties as captain if I left any of my bed mates unsatisfied, Tyr," Dylan said reasonably. "I meant what I said before."

"Ha...what was that?"

Dylan leaned in close and whispered. "Everything, every *one* on this ship is mine. Even you."

As the last words left Dylan's lips, Tyr came.


End file.
